


Not All Exits

by Wholesomereader



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambigious ending?, Angst, Angst and Feels, Arguing, Assassination, Blood and Injury, Death, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Major Character Undeath, Not Beta Read, Sad Ending, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sorry Not Sorry, Thunderstorms, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Misses Toby Smith | Tubbo, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), dying, fr there's a lot of death in this, graphic death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27891928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wholesomereader/pseuds/Wholesomereader
Summary: When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit
Comments: 24
Kudos: 187





	Not All Exits

**Author's Note:**

> edit before someone yells at me:
> 
> I put this in the romantic tags bc fuck it why not
> 
> yall shouldn't be shipping children anyways so fuck outta here with that bs

_“When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal…”_

Tommy heard about it, knew it was coming. He _knew_ and he still couldn’t get there as fast as he wanted. If he had just been _better_ at survival without help, if he could just learn to be properly independent like Phil or Techno, he would be faster. He wouldn’t be in this mess, in the pouring rain, hoping to whatever gods are out there that there’s one looking down at him with pity. He needed to get to New L’manberg, had to get there as fast as possible. 

He felt a stab of guilt when he remembers Wilbur’s ghost, leaving him more than likely confused and hurt at the campsite, but it was fine. He would be fine- he’s a ghost, he’s not going to die _twice_. He’s not going to get stabbed through the chest twice by Phil. 

_“Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying…”_

Tommy throws himself into rowing the boat, cursing at the storm. He tries to ignore the echoes of Withers as he blinks the image of Phil’s bloody sword and Wilbur’s body crashing to the ground. He tries his best to ignore it, even as his hands shake. His arms burn, but he pushes it to the back of his mind. He tries not to imagine what it would be like if he had someone here with him. He tries not to think about how this would suck less if he at least had someone to help. 

_Focus_. He needs to focus. He can’t think about how Wilbur still hasn’t gotten the chance for a proper burial. He can’t focus on the anger he feels at Technoblade or Phil or anyone else on the server. He just needs to get to New L’manberg. 

New L’manberg, which Ghostbur was fond of. Really fond of and wanting to go back, insisting that they were just on a nice vacation. Tommy feels bad about leaving him behind, he really does. Maybe if he was here, in all of his half-assed glory, he would be able to not think about how fucking angry he is. Then again, maybe he’d still be just as angry at Ghostbur and Schlatt if they had just disappeared. Schlatt was still hanging around, he was sure of it. 

_“Others are abrupt, and unfair…”_

Schlatt dying of a heart attack- there was some kind of poetic irony in that, right? And then Wilbur dying right afterwards, there must be some gods out there who were looking down at them and laughing. Tommy is _sure_ that they’re laughing all of them, but especially him as he thinks about it. Schlatt got a funeral. Wilbur didn’t. Maybe that’s why Wilbur is a proper ghost, then. Maybe it’s because he never got a funeral. 

Tommy doesn’t want a funeral. He doesn’t want to die, more specifically- he’s only got one life left on the server, after all. Dream has almost killed him multiple times, just to prove a point. Ghostbur has had to step in a few times before Tommy could plead for his last life, and he almost wishes he could thank him for it. Almost. 

Thunder rumbles across the sky as lightning strikes once, twice, and then a third time. He swallows the lump in his throat as he throws himself into the rowing again. Trying to navigate an angry sea with skinny twig arms that haven’t done much other than mope and try to build a shitty campsite is hard enough as is, especially when a wave almost capsizes him and his tiny boat. He manages to keep it upright, somehow, and a small glimmer of hope blooms in his chest. He might be able to get there in time. 

He still remembers the message he had gotten from Ranboo and Sam, both sent mere seconds after each other- he’d barely read through the first before he was out the door into the light drizzle. He’d barely thought to grab an iron sword and helmet before he was out the door, but he thinks he’s lost the helmet a long time ago. 

_There_. He can see New L’manberg, the fights being echoed across the sea even as the thunderstorm seemingly gets worse. His hair sticks to him in wet clumps, and he can barely see as he crashes his boat on land, but he doesn’t care. He scrambles out of it, scraping his hands along the beach as he stumbles more than once in the sand. He bites back a shout of pain when he trips, again, going from the sandy shores to harsh cobblestone, but he pushes it back. He tries to ignore the way his knee throbs in pain from where he had landed on it harshly. 

He doesn’t care- he follows the sounds of screams and shouting, and bites back the urge to summon his sword. 

_“But most are just unremarkable…”_

The thunderstorm makes the cobblestone streets and dirt paths hard to navigate with mud on his shoes and sand caked in his pants, with the rain coming down hard enough that he can barely see in front of him. But that doesn’t nearly matter enough right now, not when a stray hand grabs at his arm. 

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Eret has to shout, and he’s soaked through too. His clothes are wet, cling to his body and shiny in the gentle light. His hair sticks to his face as he stares in shock at him, his sunglasses off. His eyes give off an eerie glow in the rainstorm, and Tommy fights off the wave of anxiety that comes whenever he sees Eret now. 

“You’re not supposed to be here!” He shouts when he rips his arm out of his grasp. He doesn’t turn back when he sprints again. 

Ranboo had said he would try and stall, and Sam had said the same thing. Hopefully they would stall long enough for Tommy to get there in time. He hopes he gets there in time. He prays to whatever god gives him the mercy to not trip up the steps on the new pathways of New L’manberg that he gets there in time. 

And- _there_ , by the podium, because it’s always by the fucking podium where this shit happens. Tubbo stands in front of his cabinet, because he _would_ think it would be better for him to protect the government than _himself_ , the fucking president. He faces off against George and Sapnap, both of their faces overshadowed by the storm. There’s talking, Tommy can just barely see through the rain that George is screaming at Tubbo. Anger fills his chest, mixing with his anxiety as he watches-

George pull out a bow-

_“...unintentional…”_

-there’s a ripple of fear that goes through everyone, including Tommy. He can see Tubbo put his hands up, clearly trying to get George to stand down-

-the arrow gets pulled back- 

Everything seemingly slows down as George takes aim, and releases the arrow. 

Tommy rushes forward, a scream ripping from his mouth as he shoves aside whoever is in his way to grab Tubbo, to push him out of the way or to try and jump in front of him. But there’s no sound from Tubbo as the arrow pierces through his uniform, straight through his chest. 

The smell of blood hits him first as he grabs Tubbo just a second too late, and lets his friend fall back into his arms. He collapses to his knees as gently as he can, because he has his best friend, hurt, in his arms. He cradles his head, his hands going to the shoulder pads of his suit. 

There’s ringing in his ears as Tubbo looks up at him with wide, shocked eyes, and Tommy grips his suit tightly, not wanting to let go. 

“Tommy?” He chokes out, a small bit of blood coming past his lips. 

“Tubbo,” He breathes, his hands shaking. There’s shouting from all around them, and he hears the distant flap of Phil’s wings and Techno’s stupid fucking trident. They’re all here, then. 

“It-it’s gonna be okay, big man, you’re going to be fine,” He whispers. He grabs his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, trying not to freak out. He remembers, distantly, Wilbur telling him that freaking out only makes someone hurt worse if they’re already bleeding. 

Tubbo shakes his head, coughing. More blood sputters out from his lips. There’s thunder, and lightning, and shouting- but he doesn’t pay any attention to it. He feels something warm and sticky pooling at his knees, and he tries not to pay attention to the overwhelming smell of copper in his mouth. Tubbo’s body begins to shake, and he goes through another round of coughing up globs of blood from his mouth before stopping, looking up at him. 

“I’ll be okay, Tommy,” Tubbo whispers, smiling at him. 

_“...clumsy.”_

And he closes his eyes. 

Just like that, the rest of the world comes crashing in on Tommy. There’s shouting that fills his ears, the sound of rain hitting the ground, and thunder in the distance. 

“He’s not even supposed to fucking be here-”

“How the hell were we supposed to know-”

“Holy shit, Tubbo’s _dead_!” The last one is Quackity, who quickly collapses next to Tommy. He’s soaked through, just like him, and when he places his hands on his chest, they come back bloody, and red. 

His words hit Tommy like a ton of bricks. Tommy, still holding Tubbo’s hand which had gone lax in the last few seconds, feels a range of emotions all of once- anger, mostly at himself for not being strong enough, for not being able to just get here on time, for not putting Tubbo and New L’manberg _first_ \- 

A scream rips from his throat as his shoulders hunch forward, sobs wracking his body. There’s more shouting, more commotion- he hears Phil trying to calm everyone down, but it all goes silent as someone steps forward. 

“Tommy.” A statement, not a question. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Dream is calm, despite the fact that New L’manberg is on the brink of a war, again. He stands in full netherite armor that glows in the rain, his handaxes hanging by the loops around his waist. He scowls down at him, despite the mask that conceals half of his face. He can feel the waves of anger radiating off of him, even as his own consumes. 

Any other day, Tommy would have ran. 

Any other day, Tommy would have Tubbo. 

“Fuck _off_ !” He screams, still holding Tubbo in his arms. “You fucking- you _wanted_ this, didn’t you? You wanted me _gone_ , and I was! I stayed the fuck away! I didn’t want to be the bad guy! I never wanted to be the fucking villain, so I stayed away! I let you rob me _and_ Ghostbur, didn’t sneak back into anyones home and didn’t try to get back into my country!” 

Dream doesn’t respond. 

“And now Tubbo’s gone,” His voice breaks, and his grip tightens on his friend’s lifeless body. 

“Tommy-” Quackity starts, but stops when Tommy shoots him a glare. He’s still kneeling besides Tubbo, his hands by his sides. 

“You all thought I was going to be,” His shoulders shakes, and he’s shaking- he’s so _fucking angry_ , at everyone around him- Dream for enabling George, Quackity for not taking the fucking hit, Eret for making him stumble- but mostly at himself. This is his own fault, isn’t it? 

“Be the next fucking _Wilbur_ , because of Tubbo, but I would- I wouldn’t ever hurt Tubbo. Ever.” There’s a finality to his voice as he sobs, cradling Tubbo in his arms. He bows his head, his fingers beginning to hurt from how hard he’s grabbing at his friend’s suit. Good- it grounds him, keeps his anger at bay. 

“Tommy-” Dream tries, but that only makes his head snap up. 

“Shut the fuck up!” He screams, finally standing and walking right up to Dream. “You fucking want L’manberg gone, _fine_ ! Congratulations! You want my fucking discs? Just fucking take them already! Whatever you fucking want, _Dream_ , you can fucking have! You want me dead?” It’s here that he summons his sword, and throws it at Dream, who catches it and steps back slightly. “Then fucking _kill me_!” 

“Tommy, you only have one life left!” Quackity pleads, standing behind him. 

Then, his eyes widen. Behind Dream are Phil and Techno, and he focuses on Techno and Phil, both of them standing next to each other- neither have weapons drawn, of course. 

When his gaze finally, _finally_ meets Dream’s mask, his stance shifts. He puts the sword down, throwing it in between the tiny space from Tommy. There’s a spark of understanding between them. 

Lightning strikes once. 

“Tommy,” Dream says, and this time it’s with a softer tone, a warning hidden behind the words. 

“What do you want?” And his voice hurts from screaming, from all the sobbing- but there’s a small chance that this might work. 

“I mean, it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead,” Dream responds, and Tommy nods. “It’s just a matter of- are you _sure_? There’s no going back if I have to do this-”

“Fucking do it,” He hisses, and vaguely recognizes the look of absolute fear on Phil’s face behind the masked man in front of him. 

Good. 

Dream sighs, and lightning strikes twice in a row. “Fine.” 

Dying hurts. 

It’s like someone is trying to rip the skin off of him, one layer at a time. It sets his nerves on fire as his body feels like it’s gone asleep on every single part of his body. He bites back a scream that tries to tear it’s way through his throat, but finds his voice is _gone_ as he feels a force pushing him _back_. He feels every injury he’s gotten, every scrape, cut, and bruise, no matter how big or small. 

And then, in the final moments before his soul is ripped away, Tommy watches from above as a light transfers from Tommy’s body, to Tubbo’s. He watches as Phil rushes forward and grabs Tubbo into his arms as gently as he can before flying off in the rain. He watches as Dream, George, and Sapnap flee. 

Lightning strikes. Once. Twice, and then three times as he feels himself get pulled away from the server. 

Tubbo’s alive. 

That’s the one important thing to him. 

* * *

Tubbo doesn’t remember much- he just remembers hearing that George was pissed that someone burned down his house again, and blaming it on someone in New L’manberg- specifically, Quackity. But that didn’t make any sense, since Quackity was with him the entire time. He remembers standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, shouting to be heard. He remembers arguing with George, while also trying to calm everyone down. It’s hard being the president, but then he had seen Tommy. 

Which doesn’t make sense, because why would Tommy be in New L’manberg? He hadn’t tried to come back, ever. He hadn’t even messaged Tubbo in the weeks he’s been gone, and while that hurt, he at least knew from Ghostbur that Tommy wasn’t planning anything. 

He had seen Tommy, and everything after that was blank. 

It doesn’t explain how he’s in bed, in a hospital gown, with bandages around his chest. He sits up, letting out a small gasp of pain when finally does- and alerting the person sitting in the chair next to him, half asleep. There’s sunlight streaming in through the room, which is odd, because when it rained in New L’manberg, it rained for days. 

“Quackity?” Tubbo asks, his voice hoarse. How long was he out? It’s stopped raining, but it hadn’t looked like much time had passed. 

“Tubbo,” Quackity breathes, and on his next breath he’s sobbing, his shoulders shaking as he hides his face in his hands. His hair is all greasy and knotted, and his suit has clearly seen better days. “Oh gods, Tubbo-

“Hey,” He gives him a small smile, one that he hopes is reassuring. “It’s okay, I’m alive!” His voice breaks once or twice, and he has to cough to get the feeling of dust out of his throat. He grabs the glass of water on his bedside table, downing the entire thing in one go. 

“Yeah,” And Quackity looks up, a strained smile on his face. “You’re alive.” 

“What happened?” He asks quietly, and Quackity freezes. 

“What do you… remember?” 

So Tubbo tells him, confused, because wasn’t Quackity there? But then he tells him that he remembers seeing Tommy last, and that it’s all blank from there. 

So, Quackity takes a deep breath, and tells him what happened from there. He tells him about how Tommy confronted Dream, but didn’t try to fight him. He tells him how Tubbo had died, had gone limp on the ground from drowning in his own blood. He tells him how no one knew what Tommy was talking about until Phil had healed him the best he could before dropping him off at home. He tells him how it’s been a week, and how Phil had to explain how risky it was of Tommy to do that for him. How he could have never woken up from a coma, how if Tommy hadn’t done it so quickly, he still would’ve died and Tubbo would be asleep, forever. Quackity tells him how he took care of him once Phil declared him stable. 

He tells him about the funeral. 

“It was… better than Schlatt’s.” He finally states. “He got a proper burial, unlike Wilbur. I didn’t sing, and- and no one tried to steal his bones. Phil and Techno came- I’ve never seen Techno in a suit, but it was terrifying. Ghost Wilbur did too, but he said he’d look for Tommy.” 

He takes in a deep breath. “I had him buried next to Henry. I thought… he would like that, at the very least.” 

Tubbo doesn’t say anything. 

Neither does Quackity. 

The silence hangs heavy in the room as Tubbo remembers Tommy’s clear blue eyes looking at him, as he remembers how Tommy pulled him out of danger one too many times. He remembers how he built a bunker for Tommy and Wilbur, and how proud he was of himself when they did find a use for it. He remembers Tommy fighting Techno in the pit, _for_ him. There’s so many things that Tommy did for him. 

“I called him selfish,” He says, after a while. Quackity turns and looks at him in confusion. “You remember that? I called him selfish before I had him exiled, Big Q.” And he laughs as tears begin to pool in the corner of his eyes. “I-I fucking called him _selfish_ -”

“Tubbo, that wasn’t your fault! Dream was being an asshole, he was trying to pull you two apart so he could have an excuse to blow up New L’manberg!” Quackity grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“But he didn’t,” Tubbo gasps, laughing. He’s not sure why he’s laughing- but he’s been so stupid, hasn’t he? “Because Tommy’s not fucking Wilbur.” 

Quackity closes his eyes. “Tommy was never Wilbur.” 

* * *

Tubbo visits his grave. 

He places flowers down, bright yellow dandelions and poppies. Niki had given it to him with a smile. His chest is still bandaged, his ribs still hurt and sometimes he has to cough to fight off the feeling of blood filling his lungs, but he visits Tommy’s grave anyways. 

There’s been no sign of him coming back as a ghost, and he wonders if it’s karma against him. If him exiling Tommy meant he had exiled him from his life when he died. 

He sits down in front of the grave, and cranes his neck, soaking up the sun. Tubbo doesn't want to think about it. 

“I got your discs back,” He says, finally. He’d had to fight with Dream in court, but he _was_ Big Law for a reason, and Quackity was backing him up. With Phil and Techno also showing support for their side, it was a landslide win. “I’m… I’m really sorry you couldn’t keep them, in the first place.” 

Tubbo closes his eyes, a gentle breeze passing through. “They all wanted war. I said no, because that’s what Schlatt would have wanted. I have to think about that constantly now- what would Schlatt want?” He scowls, turning back to look at the headstone. It’s just plain cobble, but if he gets the chance, he’ll replace it with netherite. Something indestructible, so that it would still. 

“It’s so stupid- it’s all so stupid,” He states. “You didn’t have to do that, you know? But you did.” 

He doesn’t get an answer- Tubbo’s not sure why he wants one, but he does. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy. You’re the least selfish person I ever knew.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quote are from The Adventure Zone: Balance! I highly recommend listening to it if you've got the time!
> 
> I'd say I'm sorry for using so many TAZ related things but TAZ and minecraft both being hyperfixations of mine (and comfort interests!) I just have to connect them
> 
> special shoutout to Spark, who puts up with me rambling in our discord about this series and all the ideas I end up having, and also for keeping me up to date on this shit bc I can't watch the livestreams
> 
> if I made you feel things, you're legally obligated to tell me in the comments


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